I’m 33 years old, I work part-time and I live on savings that never exceed double figures. Sometimes I feel like life is restricting me. Today I learned that an apartment that did not exceed 500 euros is now being rented for much more, much more than it should, and it hurts me even more to discover that the owner prefers to avoid families with children, because if the family with minors cannot pay, the eviction could be delayed or complicated… Where had that owner’s empathy and values gone? A silent fear invades me. To what extent do my dreams – having a home, starting a family – depend on something that seems unattainable? I’m starting to feel cornered: I can’t buy, the rent is too high for me, and I’m afraid that even the desire to be a mother will become a luxury that I can’t afford. It’s just sadness, fear and desperation. I also wonder what will become of me when my parents are no longer there to support me or if life will allow me to enjoy something as natural as raising a child. I watch helplessly as opportunities for a dignified life slip away, one after another, leaving me trapped between fear and resignation without being able to breathe easily.
Mireia Carrillo. Oviedo
The castanets that the city forgets
A few days ago, on my way home, my gaze stopped on some castanets. I took them as someone recovering an ancient gesture, almost forgotten, but profoundly ours. They reminded me that, beneath the rush and noise, a culture that has always supported us still beats. I live in Chamartín, near the Bernabéu. For decades that stadium was a natural part of the neighborhood: the games, the Sundays, the conversations between neighbors. Today there is still football, yes, but work is being done on the stadium so that it can soon return to hosting international shows that come and go, leaving closed streets, endless queues and a neighborhood that for hours ceases to resemble itself. Profitability justifies everything, but it doesn’t always measure what is lost. Every time I see more suitcases around, more houses oriented towards transient tourism and fewer real possibilities for a young person to start their life here. It’s not just an economic problem: it’s the feeling that the city changes too quickly for those of us who live there. There are still some castanets on my table. Simple, silent. A reminder that there is also our music that we shouldn’t forget.
Isaac Sanz Alonso. Madrid
Divide and conquer
We have reached the ridiculous point where we no longer discuss ideas: we pass tests of ideological purity. Either you are with me or you are an enemy. We have replaced debate with an emotional block that prevents us from speaking and listening. And the worst thing is that we accept it. We are accepting obstinacy as indisputable proof of the truth, as if insisting were enough to be right; where the one with the highest level of irritation wins. But the tension is not something random: it is by the book. While we citizens compare ourselves at the tables and on social media, some politicians continue their game. Because the truth is that turning the debate into an internal war does nothing for us; for them yes. The comedy is old: divide and conquer. And we don’t learn… That’s the way it is.
Valentino Rodriguez. Huelva
